


Wine and candle smoke

by Cosmowashere



Series: Bilbo's experience of kisses [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bard and Thran are totally in love but it's from Bilbo's pov, But i kinda like it, M/M, Not that lewd, So he doesn't know shit, This is part 2 of Bilbo's experience of kisses, crack ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24914380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmowashere/pseuds/Cosmowashere
Summary: Bard and Thranduil share a bottle of wine under Bilbo's unfortunate eye.OrBilbo's experience of kisses
Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Thranduil
Series: Bilbo's experience of kisses [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802905
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Wine and candle smoke

**Author's Note:**

> I tried posting this like 3 time anyway, I dont have a lot to say except for: 
> 
> English is not my first language so sorry for potential grammatical errors. Don't hesitate to tell me what needs to be corrected
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Also, I wrote this listening to Show Yourself, pop cover, by Sanjay. Idk, Their ship is about opening themselves to the other. Maybe I'll write a full fanfic on them, who knows?

Sneaking past of couple of guards, Bilbo made his way out of men's camp in Dale.   
It hadn't been hard to fool the greasy haired man named Alfrid supposed to guard him, but now the hobbit had now to walk trough the Mirkwood King royal tent.

Bilbo felt bad. He felt bad for betraying Thorin, but also for the dwarf himself.   
No, he wasn't _betraying_ him. He was only being a friend. A _burglar_.  
Bilbo knew the only way to stop this foolish conflict was to give the Arkenstone to the Men. Maybe then the dwarf would give was what promised to the people of Laketown.

The hobbit was now in front of Thranduil's tent, candles glowing trough the luscious curtains. Bilbo was surprised to hear voices coming from the inside, two men calmly chatting, as if tomorrow wasn't something to fear or apprehend.

Bilbo had a mental correlation.  
Should he step in and notify the King that he was returning to the mountain and disturb the conversation?   
He couldn't talk to Gandalf, the wizard wouldn't let him go away, but Bilbo knew the King couldn't care less for a Hobbit.

Nodding to himself, the halfling softly pulled the curtain, as to not disturb the tissue too much.   
The lightning was dim, a few candles neglected.

The scene in front of him got Bilbo stopping himself. 

Elven wine was known for being quite strong and making Men tipsy rather quickly.  
So it wasn't that much of a surprise when he found Bard the Bowman and Thranduil, leaning against each other on the ground, sharing a bottle.

Bard was heavily intoxicated, and Thranduil seemed to be as well, maybe a bit less.  
Bard whispered something in the King's ear, a smirk on his lips.  
It must've been funny, for the already existing grin on Thranduil's face grew larger, flustering.  
The Elf answered back, making both of them laughing and drinking more.

"I didn't know Elves could get wasted as we are," mumbled the archer, a soft blush on his cheeks.

"We can't. Elves are no lightweights. But this is a good wine, made by masters. The alcohol of Men merely makes our fingertips numb," snorted the King, laying his head on the man's shoulder, his long platinum hair cascading down the dragon killer shoulder.

Bard grabbed a strand of golden lock, playing with it for a moment, absorbed by the colour, length and maybe softness.   
Thranduil didn't mind.

Bard closed his eyes a moment, frowning. He seemed stuck on a thought, not letting it go until resolved.  
And poor Bilbo had to watch in silence, overlooked as a simple wind entering the tent.  
Maybe Bard was debating if he should go?   
Unfortunately, the man was not even thinking about leaving.

Bard grabbed the bottle, not bothering to pour himself a drink and brought it to his lips.

"Why do you drink so much?" he handed the bottle to Thranduil, who gratefully took it, "The only thing I've seen you do here is looking at my people with disdain, being majestic and drinking wine."

The elf signed, sipping the last drop of red poison.  
He let it roll on the carpets, refocusing his attention on Bard.

"At the height of a life that isn't yet to end, one must find ways to numb the pain and memories of the past," explained the King, playing with a ring on his slender finger.

Bard scoffed and cocked his head to the side.  
"I can relate to what you're saying. I need to drink myself to the floor sometimes," the men scoffed.

He redirected his eyes to the elf, catching the blue gaze of the Mirkwood King.   
Both stared in each other eyes for a bit before Bard's hand twitched.  
He raised it to the blond's face and tucked a strand of hair behind his pointy ear.

His hand lingered on, maybe a little bit too long for it to be simply friendly.  
Thranduil leaned in the touch, lowering the man's hand to his cheek.   
They stayed that way for a moment. 

It's like they were talking to each other. Sometimes words were too hard to use and a gaze could talk more, that Bilbo knew. 

Bard leaned in, an inch away from the elf's face.  
It was now a game of who would pull back first, lips and hands trembling. 

Neither did.

Bard's hot and intoxicating breath blowed on Thranduil's skin, making him shiver.   
The bowman's hand was gently cupping his cheek, the other on the ground for stability.

Bard's eyes were asking for something, for confirmation. He needed to know if he could go further, continue whatever was happening.

He had his answer as the King's hand found it's way to Bard's neck, pulling him closer, their lips crashing together.

Bilbo's eyes went wide, his eyebrows lifting.  
He forced himself to not gasp too loud in surprise.

Once again, Bilbo found himself witnessing a scene of the sort.  
Except this time it felt more intimate, more meaningful for Bard and Thranduil than it was for Nori and Dwalin.

The hobbit did notice the few looks Bard gave the Elven King in their meeting, but he brushed it off for loathing or disgust.

Anyhow, this wasn't something he was meant to witness further, as the kiss was heating a bit too much for Bilbo's taste.

Thranduil straddled the dragon killer, and Bilbo took his cue and fled the camp, making his way to Erebor.

The smell of wine and smoke haunted his mind, as well as the passion and love the two men seemed to share.

He admired them. He admired that two beings could find companionship in a time of war. To find each other in pain, or alcohol in this case. 

To share a kiss of love and understanding. That truly was heartwarming and admirable. 

Bilbo couldn't see himself do that.   
Well he could.  
But not right now.   
Not with how _he_ was.  
Not with the gold staining the pride and honesty.

Hopefully, tomorrow would put an end to it all...


End file.
